Bereft
by Duffy1972
Summary: MH FanFic #7: It's Thanksgiving at the Parsons' in 1957 and there's food, family, football, and lives are changed permanently by the end of the weekend. Later, Bill Houston makes some big investments and a change of his own. Most characters are original and some are borrowed.
1. Chapter 1

"Cindy, we should entertain more often," Roger said, as he opened the heavy pocket doors off the kitchen that opened into their rarely used dining room.

Cynthia peeled sweet potatoes and replied sardonically, "Sure, how about Sunday dinners every week?" Deborah, who was standing nearby, cutting up the sweet potatoes, smiled.

Roger smirked and looked at Cynthia with chagrin.

Deborah put down her knife and dried her hands on her apron. "Would you like me to dust the dining room and give it a quick cleaning?"

"No. I'll take care of it," Roger replied.

"When will your parents get here, Roger?" Deborah asked.

"They should be coming from the hotel soon. They came down last night from Dallas," Roger said as he picked up a dust cloth.

"It will be nice seeing them again. I was hoping to see them at Cady's birthday party last month," Deborah said.

"Yeah, well…. They couldn't make it," Roger replied in a wistful, cryptic tone. He walked into the dining room and started dusting.

Deborah walked to the entrance of the kitchen and looked into the living room where Jacob and Cady were. She came back and resumed cutting sweet potatoes. "You should see your father, Dear. He's coloring with Cady on the coffee table. He's sitting on the floor with her with his legs crossed. I hope he can get up again," she said with a laugh.

Cynthia smiled. "I'm sure we'll be able to help him up if he needs it."

"Where's Cady's little neighbor friend?" Deborah asked.

"Julia?" Cynthia replied.

"Yes, that's it. The precocious one," Deborah replied.

"She's in Bancroft, California for Thanksgiving. That's where Linda's family is from. Actually, the town is named after her family. Her maiden name is Bancroft, and Julia was actually born there," Cynthia explained.

"Oh?" Deborah said.

"Yes. Something about her father and oil money," Cynthia said.

"Ah. Like the Houstons," Deborah replied.

"I believe so, but the Houstons come from older money compared to the Bancrofts," Cynthia replied. "They're visiting Linda's brother and his family. Julia has a slightly older cousin named Oliver."

The two women finished all the sweet potatoes and began preparing the other side dishes for cooking. "Where are the Houstons today? Are they joining us?" Deborah asked.

Roger returned from the dining room as Deborah asked about the Houstons. "No. They won't be. This is the one holiday they visit Bill's deceased wife's family. Rebecca's mother doesn't like Bill but would still like Matt to be a part of her life."

"Doesn't like Bill?" Deborah asked. "He's perfectly charming," she said incredulously.

"Bill says she blames him for Rebecca's death. Of course, it's preposterous," Roger replied. "At least she cares enough about her grandson to see him on Thanksgiving and send him the occasional check," Roger continued in a sarcastic tone.

"I'm glad Robert and his family are on the way. Cady will have Dorothy to play with today. A room full of chatty adults can be pretty boring," Deborah said.

"I'm glad they're bringing the pies. I'm short on oven and stovetop space," Cynthia said.

"The turkey smells amazing," Roger said, as he embraced Cynthia around the waist. Deborah finished up the Green Bean Casserole and put it in the refrigerator until it was time to cook, and sat down at the kitchen table. Roger and Cynthia joined her.

"I expect that Cady's grades are going to be as good as ever," Deborah said.

"Yes. It's looking that way. There's not much work after the holiday and she's already got straight A's," Cynthia said.

"Excellent," Deborah said. Then the doorbell rang. All three got up from the kitchen table and went to the door. Cady leapt up from the floor and ran to the door, leaving Jacob struggling to get up.

Cynthia opened the door and Robert, Janice, and Dorothy stood there, pies in hand. "Come in, come in," she said. "Just go put the pies in the kitchen on the table for now." Robert took Dorothy's pie and Cady hugged Dorothy hard and she grabbed her by the hand and dragged her younger cousin off to her room. Robert and Janice took the pies and placed them on the table.

"I'll take your jackets," Roger said. They took off their jackets and handed them to him and he walked away to put them on his and Cynthia's bed.

Robert hugged Cynthia. "How are you, Sis?" he asked.

"Good, Bob. You? How's work?" Cynthia asked.

"Shell's fine. It keeps me interested and gives me job security. Chemistry's my life. I'm doing what I went to school for. Can't complain, really," Robert said. He put his arm around Cynthia's shoulders and casually leaned against her, "How about you?"

"Glad to have a day off to relax with family and catch up," Cynthia said.

Jacob and Deborah took turns hugging Robert and Janice. "Great to see you again, Son," Jacob said while giving him a hug.

Roger returned from their bedroom and walked up and shook Robert's hand. "C'mon and sit down," Roger said, gesturing to the couch." Roger hugged Janice. "How are you?"

Janice said, "I'm good, Roger. Great to see you. I'll be back in a minute, I'm going to go say hi to Cady."

Janice walked off. Robert said, "She sure loves kids. Well, we both do," he said as he sat down.

"Does Dorothy have a little brother or sister on his or her way?" Roger asked. Everyone else in the room was all ears.

"She'd kill me if I told you, but maybe. We're trying," Robert said with an impish grin.

Roger smacked Robert on the back. "That's great, Robert!"

Jacob sat down with the other two men. "Yes, Son. You'll make your mother a bubbeh a third time. Perhaps a grandson?"

"We don't have any control over that, Dad," Robert laughed.

"A man can wish," Jacob replied. "I love my granddaughters, but a grandson would be a nice addition."

"We'll try, Dad," Robert said as he rolled his eyes and smiled.

Roger got up and turned on the television. "The Macy's Parade is going to start in a bit," he said and sat back down.

"Cynthia and I will check on the food," Deborah announced, and the two walked off to the kitchen.

Janice returned from Cady's bedroom. "Cady is bigger every time I see her. The girls are having a pre-dinner tea party," she said as she sat down with the men, sitting next to Robert who placed his arm around her shoulders while they watched the parade.

"You just missed a couple of parade floats, Janice. One had a rocket ship theme and the next one was a covered wagon with two pioneers," Roger said.

"I like the giant balloons," Janice said. She paused and looked at the television. "Oooh. They _do_ get creative with some of these floats, don't they?"

"Yes. I read about how much work that went into putting some of these creations together and I couldn't believe it," Jacob said.

"It's a nice tradition to have at Thanksgiving," Janice replied. "It's my favorite part."

"That and the Texas versus Texas A&M game this afternoon. Right, Roger?" Robert said.

"I'm ready if you are," Roger said in a defiant tone.

"Care to lay down some money on this one?" Robert asked.

Roger rubbed this chin and scrutinized Robert. "How much are we talking?"

"Doesn't have to be a lot," Robert replied. "Fifty bucks?"

"Fifty bucks on the Aggies?" Roger asked with an incredulous tone in his voice. "You have a bet. I say the Longhorns have this." The two men shook hands on the bet.

Jacob interjected, "Do you know what else is a nice tradition?"

Robert replied, "What, Dad?"

"The Bar Mitzvah," Jacob replied.

Janice glared at Robert. "What's he talking about, Bob?"

Jacob smiled coyly.

Robert explained, "Well, while you were with the girls I said we were trying to make another baby and Dad got really enthusiastic and said we should make him a boy."

"Oh, you did?" she replied, blushing and looking displeased.

"It's okay, Janice. We all know how babies get here," Roger replied to lessen the tension.

Robert turned to Jacob again, "And besides, Dad…What are you talking about? You haven't been to synagogue in years and you're talking about having a Bar Mitzvah for a grandson that doesn't even exist."

Jacob shrugged his shoulders and said, "You can't fault a man for a love of tradition. You had a Bar Mitzvah. I did. My father did."

"Well, if we have another daughter, she and Dorothy can have Bat Mitzvahs if they want them. I would think as a modern man, that that is just as fine with you," Robert replied.

"Sure, sure. But it still would be nice to have a boy to carry on the Glass name," Jacob said.

Deborah stepped into the room from helping Cynthia with food preparation. "Is your father putting his foot in his mouth again?" she asked with her hands on her ample hips.

Jacob smiled coyly again. Robert said, "Sometimes just when I think he's a man of the new world, he goes and shows me he's still a man of the old." Janice and Roger looked on as the three family members hashed out the merits of certain traditions.

"Oh?" Deborah asked.

"First he's talking Bar Mitzvahs for our future baby boy and then he's talking about how he would like a boy to 'carry on the Glass name,'" Robert explained.

"Ay-yay-yay!" Deborah exclaimed. "No one's even pregnant yet! What kind of talk is this? There are two beautiful and smart girls in the other room...," she paused, and looked at the television…. "And why aren't they out here enjoying _this _tradition? Jacob, don't be a schvantz!" Robert laughed at that and Jacob smiled. Deborah walked over to Jacob and playfully squeezed his shoulders and kissed him on the forehead.

Janice said, "The girls are having their own private tea party, right now."

"Oh, I see," Deborah said with a smile. "Well, don't let them miss the whole parade." Deborah returned to the kitchen.

Cynthia was checking on the turkey in the oven and basting it when Deborah returned.

"How's it looking, dear?" Deborah asked.

"Should be done on time," Cynthia replied.

"Good, good," Deborah replied.

"What was all the commotion out there?" Cynthia asked and closed the oven door.

"Oh, your father. He has such a dry sense of humor that everyone thinks he's serious. Even your brother," Deborah replied.

Cynthia laughed. "What was it this time?"

"Your father was trying a back door way to get Janice and Robert to talk about making a new grandchild and it backfired," Deborah replied. Deborah rubbed Cynthia's back, "Speaking of which…Cady is seven years old as of last month. Have you two given up?"

"I think so. I'm thirty-seven and there would also be a big gap between her and the next child," Cynthia replied.

"And Roger and you agree?" Deborah asked.

"Yes. We've talked," Cynthia replied.

"Too bad… Cady, a 'lonely only,'" Deborah replied.

"C'mon, Mom. Cady's anything but lonely. She has Dorothy, Julia, and Matt and some neighborhood friends as well," Cynthia defended.

"Still," Deborah replied with sadness in her voice.

"Still, nothing," Cynthia said in an irritated tone.

"I've read that if you keep only children involved in activities and groups, it helps with loneliness and avoiding becoming self-absorbed," Deborah said.

"Yes, Mother, I'm aware," Cynthia replied in an even more irksome tone.

Deborah changed the topic. "Well, what else needs to get done?"

Just then, the doorbell rang. The two women wiped their hands on towels and headed to the living room to the front door. Roger was already there shaking Peter's hand. Joanne stood with her arms crossed and a sour expression.

"Can I take your jacket, Mom," Roger asked.

"Sure, Son," she said as she took her jacket off and handed it to Roger.

"I'll just take this and put it on our bed with the others," Roger said and walked off.

Peter and Joanne came inside and Peter closed the door behind them. Cynthia approached the two and asked, "How was the drive?"

Peter replied, "Not bad." He looked oddly at Joanne and said, "A little quiet, but not bad."

Joanne snorted quietly to herself but didn't say anything more. Cynthia looked quizzically at the couple. Roger came back and stood nearby with his hands sunk firmly in his pockets.

Deborah interjected, "Would either of you like anything to drink? We have some red and white wine, tea, or I can brew some coffee."

"Coffee would be great if it's not any trouble," Peter said.

"Of course it's trouble, Peter. She'll have to brew it," Joanne said to Peter in a snapping and abrasive tone.

Peter looked embarrassed. Roger walked over to his chair and sat down.

"No trouble at all. I was going to have some, and we'll all be drinking it later with pie, I'm sure," Deborah replied. Deborah turned and shot a furtive and annoyed look at Cynthia and walked back into the kitchen.

"Joanne, would you like to help us finish getting the meal ready?" Cynthia asked guardedly.

"Sure, Cynthia," Joanne replied. She turned to Peter. "Make yourself comfortable," she said in the same abrasive tone." She followed Cynthia into the kitchen.

Peter sat down with the other four who were looking at him in stunned silence. He broke the silence after a few moments of gazing at the television, "So…where is that beautiful granddaughter of mine?" he asked with a smile.

"She's playing tea party with Dorothy in her bedroom," Janice replied.

"Oh. Well, I won't interrupt that," Peter said with a smile. "What have I missed?" he asked referring to the parade on the television. It was clear to everyone present that what had just transpired was not a topic for discussion.

"Floats and a few big balloon characters, Dad," Roger replied. "You just missed a toy soldier. I swear it was about twenty times as tall as the average man, maybe more."

"Sorry I missed that," Peter replied.

Everyone caught Peter up on what he had missed in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade airing on KPRC that day, and meanwhile, in the kitchen, the three other women were hashing out who would do what in terms of preparation.

"I've got to keep an eye on the turkey, and Mom is going to make the mashed potatoes here in a bit," Cynthia delegated. How would you like to set all the place settings in the dining room, Joanne?"

"I guess I didn't realize you _had_ a dining room, Cynthia. I don't think we've ever been entertained here," Joanne remarked.

Cynthia kept her temper. "We do, as a matter of fact. And we don't often have time to use it ourselves or entertain," she said pointing over to the space that used to be closed pocket doors that acted as a false wall when shut.

"Oh! That's lovely," Joanne complimented while looking into the room. "Where are your place settings, then? I'll get started," she said with sudden motivation. Cynthia pointed out where her nice china, silverware, and table dressings were and set Joanne to the task. Deborah rolled up her sleeves and dumped the boiling water out of a large stock pot into the sink and began using a hand-masher to mash potatoes. She alternated adding cream and butter to get the potatoes to the consistency she desired. Cynthia took the turkey out of the oven to cool before removing the stuffing. And she placed some previously cooked sides back in the oven to rewarm on low.

The giant balloons were coming in rapid succession in the Macy's parade. Roger called, "Girls! Come in here. You're missing the best part of the parade!"

Seconds later, Cady and Dorothy came running and Cady jumped in Roger's lap and Dorothy climbed in between Janice and Robert on the couch and they watched the parade with the adults.

Jacob leaned forward in his chair. "Why… are_ those_ the Radio City Rockettes?" he asked, with his eyes bulging, admiring the high-kicking legs of the statuesque dancing beauties.

Robert slapped his father on his upper arm. "Didn't you hear, Dad? I think this is their first year in the parade," he said with a knowing smile.

"Are they going to be in it every year?" Jacob asked, still riveted to the screen.

"I believe so," Robert said, glancing over at Peter and Roger, who smiled back. Janice just shook her head.

"Well, I'm going to make a point to catch this every year from now on," Jacob declared.

"I bet. You were always a leg man, Dad," Robert said and laughed. Janice elbowed him and glanced at the girls who were watching the television.

"Look Daddy!" Cady exclaimed. "It's Popeye!"

Dorothy echoed, "Popeye!"

"You're right, Baby. I think this might be the first year for him too," Roger replied.

It had been raining on that year's parade for almost the whole event. Popeye made his way down the avenue and swayed with the ropes in the breeze, and there was a dent in the top of his hat that had apparently collected a lot of water and when he leaned forward, many gallons of water spilled on the crowd.

Cady and Dorothy pointed at the television and squealed with glee at watching the people try to get away from the massive amount of water falling on them. They both pointed to the television laughing hysterically. Cady exclaimed, "Look, Daddy! The people are all getting wet!" Dorothy continued laughing.

"I bet they didn't plan on that," Robert remarked. "I wonder how much water that was."

"Seemed like a lot," Roger replied, looking at the television and watching the crowd scatter.

"Speaking of Popeye, is there going to be spinach with the meal today?" Jacob asked Roger.

"I think Cynthia made creamed spinach earlier," Roger replied.

"Ewwww, Poppa," Cady said, making a scrunched up face at Jacob.

"What? You don't like spinach?" he replied.

"No!" Cady said emphatically.

"Me neither!" Dorothy agreed, if only for the fact that she often followed Cady's lead.

"Well, how are you two going to be strong like Popeye, then, and get big muscles?" Jacob asked.

"We don't need big muscles, Poppa," Cady replied in an incredulous tone.

"You never know. You could get in a bind and need to fight your way out of somewhere," Jacob replied, winking over at Roger.

"Poppa…." Cady said with further disbelief, this time with her hands on her hips and head cocked to one side.

"You're on a roll today, Jacob," Roger said.

"Spinach doesn't give you big muscles like Popeye, Poppa. It's a cartoon," Cady continued.

Jacob replied, "Oh. I stand corrected. You are right."

Joanne entered the room and sat near Peter on the couch but with her arms crossed. Everyone else went quiet. She said, "The dining room is ready and Cynthia and Deborah are almost done."

Roger said, "Great!" He paused for a bit, thinking to himself. "I know! Mom and Dad haven't seen the Galveston pictures yet! I'll be right back." Roger went back to the back of the house and came back with an envelope. He sat between Joanne and Peter.

Joanne said, "I wish we could have come for Cady's birthday party, but things came up." She turned her attention to Cady who was watching Roger take pictures from the envelope. "Really sorry we missed your birthday, Darling."

"It's okay, Gramma," Cady said with a smile. "You can come next year."

"We definitely will," Joanne replied.

Roger organized the photographs in his hands and started passing a few to his mother and explaining what was going on in each picture. Janice, Robert, Jacob, and the girls moved closer to look at the photographs again. "These are some pictures of some of the historic homes," Roger said.

"These are lovely. So grand… and I love the ornamentation," Joanne replied, looking through each picture. "Such nice homes on the island..."

"I read about how that hurricane in 1900 all but destroyed Galveston. Horrible," Peter remarked. "The homes look great despite the city's history. Weren't you there after Hurricane Audrey this summer?"

"Yes," Roger replied. "But we had the vacation scheduled and we weren't going to let a little weather get in the way of our plans. There was a lot less damage on our side than on the Louisiana side." Roger passed another set of pictures to Joanne. "These are from the seawall – some views of the Gulf."

"Beautiful," Joanne said.

"Cynthia took these. She's the shutterbug," Roger replied.

"Sunrise or sunset?" Peter asked.

"Sunset," Roger replied. "We had to get out of there that night. Apparently illegal gambling and prostitution has become a problem in Galveston."

"I've read something about that," Peter replied. "The State Attorney General and the Texas Rangers have been running raids on the city to shut down those black market industries; of course, driving down tourism with it."

Joanne looked at him askance.

"Well, we felt it wasn't the place for Cady, so we went to the beach the next day and most days after that," Roger said. He handed some more pictures to Joanne, who looked at them and passed them to Peter as she had done the others. Cady and Dorothy had gotten bored and were taking turns braiding each other's hair on the floor. Joanne looked at pictures of Cynthia on the beach looking off into the horizon, Cady picking up shells and some of her drawing in the sand, pictures of Roger – almost all of which had him making funny faces for the camera.

Joanne held out one in particular in her hand. "Oh, son… I very much like this one of you and Cady," she said.

Robert and Janice leaned forward and Robert asked, "Which one?"

Joanne showed the group the picture.

Cady looked up. "I love that picture of my Daddy and me."

Jacob said, "Yes. We all liked that one… very nice. You can tell who my daughter's two favorite people in the world are in that one."

"She has the eye for sure," Joanne replied. She looked at the photograph again which showed the horizon of ocean water in the background at a sharp diagonal going down to the left. Cady was in front of her father and both were perpendicular and at an opposing diagonal to the horizon. Cady was standing while Roger squatted down to be at her level and the two held hands while looking out into the ocean with a breaker crashing behind them. Both had windswept hair and were smiling. "Do you mind if I have a print from the negative for the house?" Joanne asked.

"Not at all, Mom," Roger replied.

Roger showed the group a few more pictures and Deborah appeared in the doorway to the living room. "Alright, everyone…. Thanksgiving dinner is served. Turn off that television and come on in to the dining room." Roger put the photographs back into the envelope and went over and turned off the television where he rested the photographs. The group walked into the kitchen with Jacob bringing up the front and Roger coming in last.


	2. Chapter 2

"Why don't you girls sit next to each other over there," Roger said as he pointed to the corner of the table on the side opposite the entrance to the room. Cady and Dorothy grabbed each other's hands and walked over and sat down. Everyone else took their spots at the table – Robert and Janice next to the kids, Cynthia next to Roger who sat at one head of the table, Peter and Joanne between Cynthia and Deborah who sat next to the other head of the table held by Jacob.

"Mind if I say the prayer before the turkey is carved?" Joanne asked looking at Roger. Roger glanced at Cynthia with a slightly worried expression. Cynthia nodded at him with a comforting look.

"Sure, Mom," Roger replied.

Joanne stood up while everyone else remained seated and folded their hands. She smoothed her skirt and hair to make sure she looked presentable for the prayer. Then she began praying aloud. "Dear God….Thank you for all that you give us…prosperity, gainful employment, roofs over our heads, the love of family and friends, and for everyone at this table, as well as this wonderful meal. We also thank you for the grace you showed to us when you sent your Son to die for our sins. In His name we pray, Amen." Joanne smiled and sat down.

Roger let out a barely audible sigh and Cynthia looked at him and winked and smiled.

Jacob said, "Amen….You know, the word 'amen' means 'truth' in Hebrew, as an expression of agreement, and I have to say, that I couldn't agree more with most of your list of things to be thankful for. Thank you for a lovely prayer, Joanne." He stood up and picked up the carving knife. "Before I carve this bird, I'd like to thank the turkey for giving its life and being so delicious."

"Dad!" Cynthia exclaimed. Everyone laughed.

"I'm going to have to tell Bill that you thanked the turkey, Jacob," Roger said. "He'll find that amusing because of his interest in Indian practices and stories."

"It makes sense, Daddy," Cady said.

"What does, Baby?" Roger replied.

"We learned about Squanto in school last week, and how he helped the Pilgrims. We read a book called, _Squanto, Friend of the Pilgrims_," Cady explained.

"Oh. Good, Baby. See, Jacob… your thanking the turkey was also timely and germane to the holiday," Roger said.

"What does 'germane' mean, Daddy?" Cady asked.

"It means 'closely related' or 'pertinent' or 'relevant," Roger replied as he rubbed her back gently and smiled at her warmly.

Jacob started carving the turkey and distributing it to the gathering. Once everyone was served, Deborah took the rest of the turkey to the kitchen, and sat back down with the others.

"So, tell me more about Galveston, son. What was the hurricane damage like there?" Peter asked.

"Like I said, there really wasn't much damage to Galveston. They were working on power lines when we arrived and there were many uprooted trees as well as some debris on the beach and seawall, but probably no worse than a powerful thunderstorm," Roger said. "I picked up a paper there every day and the news was mostly about the devastation in Louisiana. There were some very tragic photos published. Some offshore drilling had been interrupted by the hurricane as well."

"Offshore drilling, eh? Did that affect Bill in any way?" Peter asked.

"Yes. His brother Roy and wife Flo and their son Will were going to come for a visit around the same time and he had to make alternative plans. He sent Matt to Tucson, instead, to be with them, while Bill took care of business in the Gulf," Roger replied.

"He had a lot of fun," Cady chimed in.

"What did he do, Dear?" Deborah asked.

"They walked around and looked at a lot of art, mostly. They went to the New Mexico Museum of Art. He brought me a postcard from there. It's a picture of an artist named Georgia O'Keeffe and a man. He said it wasn't in the museum, but the picture was in the gift shop. He said it reminded him of us when we get old," she said and laughed.

"Oh, he _does _like you, _doesn't_ he, Dear?" Deborah said with a smile and elbowed Jacob.

"Of course! We're friends!" Cady replied enthusiastically, but with a quizzical look on her face.

"The postcard is in her bedroom on her bulletin board. She can show it to you all after dinner," Cynthia said.

"His uncle told him that the picture was taken by a famous photographer. I can't remember the name," Cady said.

"I believe the man with Georgia O'Keeffe is Orville Cox and the photographer was Ansel Adams," Roger said. "It should say on the back of the card."

"I always liked her flower paintings," Jacob said with a wink. Deborah elbowed him.

"Are you going to keep doing that all day," Jacob asked as he rubbed his side.

"If you keep it up," Deborah said with a half-furrowed brow and a smile.

"I've always thought her flower paintings should only be given private viewing because of their lewd nature," Joanne said with a tone of moral indignation.

"Well, what is it that Freud said?" Peter asked. "…Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar?"

Jacob replied, "That lovely woman's flower paintings are _no_ cigars." He leaned away from Deborah immediately. Everyone laughed except Joanne who looked like she tasted an extremely tart cranberry.

"What else did Matt do in Santa Fe?" Deborah asked.

"He went swimming a lot at some swimming club. His uncle had a friend who got them in," Cady replied.

"Perfect for a summer in the southwest, I'd say," Deborah replied.

"Uh-hmm. He also went to the opera and saw something called _Madama Butterfly_. He didn't like it, though," Cady said.

"Oh? Why not?" Deborah asked.

"He said it was all in Italian and he couldn't understand it and that the whole thing was 'hokey,'" Cady said.

"Opera is probably lost on the average seven year-old boy," Janice said.

"It's lost on _me_," Robert replied.

"Bill's brother and his wife are very interested in art and cultural events," Roger said.

"I like art too," Cady said.

"Me too," Dorothy agreed.

"Did you have a good time on your birthday, Cady?" Joanne asked.

"Yes, Gramma. Matt, Julia, and Dorothy and some of my other friends came. I had a lot of fun," Cady replied. "Did you get my 'thank you' card that I made?"

"Yes, Dear. We have it on the mantle at home. I'm glad you liked your present," Joanne replied. "What kind of party did you have?"

"We played some games, but mainly we had a dance party," Cady replied. "We danced to Elvis songs."

"Oh?" Joanne said.

"It wasn't planned that way," Cynthia replied. "Robert and Janice brought their Elvis records over and it turned into a dance party."

"I saw him on Ed Sullivan last year. Great voice but his gyrations are scandalous," Joanne said.

"Robert's mastered his dance moves. He and Janice taught the kids to dance to the songs together. It was adorable," Cynthia replied.

Joanne gasped. "You didn't teach them _all _of the dance moves, did you?"

"He sure did," Roger replied. "You should have seen him. He even came over to the house with his hair slicked back with a D.A."

"What's a D.A.?" Joanne asked.

"It's a 'duck's ass,' Dear," Deborah replied resting her hand on Joanne's shoulder. Cady and Dorothy giggled at the utterance of the word 'ass.' "It's a hairstyle young men wear these days. The back is combed to look like a duck's ass." Cady and Dorothy giggled again.

"I don't think we should be using such language around the children," Joanne said.

"Relax, Joanne. It's not bad language. We all have asses," Peter interjected and smiled at the girls. Cady and Dorothy giggled again.

"Well, we all have mouths. That doesn't mean we should use them to say any little old thing…certainly not at the table," Joanne retorted.

"It was like watching a variety show on TV, Robert and Janice danced so well," Roger said. "Matt's dance card was full too. He picked up on the moves very quickly and got to dance with every girl at the party."

"Even Aunt Janice," Cady replied with a laugh.

"He was pretty good, but a little too short for my taste," Janice joked.

"How's school, Cady?" Joanne asked, changing the subject.

"Fine," Cady replied.

"What's your favorite subject these days?" Peter asked.

"I like reading. I read all the time," Cady replied.

"That's very good, Dear," Deborah encouraged.

"Speaking of reading and school…That was something that happened in Little Rock in September, wasn't it?" Peter said.

"It's a sad day when you have to bring in the military to coerce a state to follow a just law," Roger said.

"Sad, indeed," Deborah replied.

"What do you mean, Daddy?" Cady asked.

"The Supreme Court ruled that schools can no longer be segregated and that they should allow black students to attend school with white students," Roger replied. "Arkansas's governor fought the ruling and tried to stop black children from attending school with white children by using the state's National Guard. President Eisenhower sent in the U.S. Army to escort nine children to classes and federalized the Arkansas National Guard so that they worked for the federal government instead of the state, effectively thwarting the governor's wishes."

"Why would Arkansas' governor do that?" Cady asked.

"Some white people think they are better than black people. It's called racism or bigotry," Roger replied.

"Well, that's not very nice," Cady said with a furrowed brow.

"No it's not!" Dorothy exclaimed.

"I agree and so does President Eisenhower," Roger replied.

"Barrick doesn't have any black students," Cady observed.

"They will, eventually," Roger replied. "Texas has been fighting desegregation as well."

"What's 'desegregation?'" Cady asked.

"That's the word for when you open schools up to all races of children, or places of businesses to all races of people," Roger explained.

"Oh," Cady said. "Well, I think _everywhere_ should be desegregated!" she declared.

"Me too, Baby," Roger replied.

"America is such a hypocritical place. Elvis is the most popular white singer right now, climbing the Billboard chart in popularity and raking in the dough, and he's so obviously influenced by the black Delta Blues, and this country treats blacks so poorly at the same time," Robert observed.

"Yes, it is very hypocritical and ironic," Roger replied.

"What does 'hypocritical' mean?" Cady asked. She was always asking what words meant at this age.

"It means people say or believe one thing, and do another… usually the opposite," Roger replied. He was always glad to oblige her inquisitiveness about word meanings.

"Oh. Well, I like Elvis and I like the black people I've met. They don't seem all that different from me," Cady replied.

"They're not. You're right," Roger replied.

"Let's get off of the dreary political and social concerns. It's Thanksgiving," Joanne said. "How are the Houstons? You've mentioned Bill and Matt a few times today."

"They're doing fine, Mom," Roger replied. "There's not much to tell."

"Matt's fine, Gramma," Cady said. "He's doing better in school this year. I help him out when I can."

"That's very nice of you," Joanne replied and smiled at her.

"Daddy takes me over to his house sometimes and Bo and Lamar take us riding on his horse or we play with Champ, his dog," Cady said. "_We_ still don't have a dog or cat, though," she said with a frown. Roger and Cynthia ignored her less-than-subtle plea.

"Bo and Lamar?" Joanne asked.

"They're Bill's ranch hands. They're a colorful duo," Roger replied.

"It sounds very fun, Dear," Joanne said to Cady.

"I guess you're still doing legal work for Bill," Peter remarked.

"Yes. He asks me for legal advice, mostly. I've drawn up a few contracts and helped with a few real estate deals. He's always looking for ways to diversify his investments," Roger replied. "I guess that's why he's a millionaire."

"That, and a lot of inherited wealth to begin with," Jacob remarked.

"Jacob…" Deborah warned.

"What? He's a Houston of the Houston - Houstons," Jacob replied. "It's pretty easy to stay a millionaire once you're born one. I'm just glad he's one of the most philanthropic millionaires I've ever met, and a nice gentleman as well."

"He's a very good man and an excellent father," Roger replied.

"Cynthia, how's work for you?" Peter asked.

"Busy as always. I have to work the night shift two nights in a row, starting tomorrow," Cynthia replied.

"Still no private practice?" Joanne asked.

"I think we may start talking about that seriously after the New Year," Cynthia replied.

"It would certainly give you more flexibility in your schedule to spend time with Roger and Cady," Joanne replied.

"Yes. That's one of the goals, for sure," Cynthia replied.

"The only goal that matters, I would think," Joanne replied.

Roger interrupted what was sure to be quite the dust-up between Cynthia and Joanne, "Deborah, we haven't heard what you and Jacob have been up to…."

Deborah cleared her throat from nervousness. "Well, yes…We've been participating in politics a little again and Jacob still goes to Rubinstein Community Center. I occasionally join him there for the odd game of Bridge or Pinochle."

"I thought you got out of politics, Deborah," Peter asked.

"I'm helping to get Ralph Yarborough reelected to the Senate for the upcoming midterm elections," Deborah replied. I hope we can get a stronger Democratic majority in the Senate. We need a more progressive government to keep us moving forward."

"If anyone can help them do it, it's you, Mom," Robert said with a smile.

"What are you doing at the Rubinstein Community Center?" Peter asked Jacob.

"I'm usually just down there playing card games. I participate in a current event discussion group," Jacob replied.

"He's taken up swimming, too….for exercise," Deborah said.

"I've been told it will keep these old bones younger by my _doctor_," Jacob said.

"Who's your doctor?" Peter asked.

"Why, that would be Dr. Parsons, here, at the table," Jacob replied. "Well….she's not actually my doctor, but she acts like she is, and I'm glad my grown-up tochter still cares for her futter."

"We're certainly all lucky to have a doctor in the family," Joanne replied. "Dorothy, how have you been doing in school?"

"Fine," Dorothy said.

"She's really good at reading, too," Cady said.

"Dorothy can speak for herself, Baby," Roger replied.

"So you're good at reading, Dorothy? What are you reading right now?" Joanne asked.

"At school or on my own?" Dorothy asked.

"Both," Joanne replied.

"We read boring books at school. I'm reading _The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe_. I like it a lot," Dorothy replied.

"That's a book for older children, isn't it?" Joanne asked.

"I told you she was good at reading," Cady said and wrapped her arm around Dorothy's shoulders.

"I guess so," Joanne said in an impressed tone. "…Such smart young girls."

"Now that you're caught up on all of us, what have you and Peter been doing?" Cynthia asked her mother-in-law.

"The usual…. I keep the house clean, and read. Peter plays golf almost year round now," Joanne said with some consternation in her voice. "We don't play cards as much with friends anymore, and I can't remember the last time we went out for dinner."

"We went out a month ago," Peter said.

"To that hamburger place?" Joanne replied.

"It's going out for food, isn't it?" Peter replied sternly.

Robert interrupted, "There's a great new burger place here in Houston. It's called The Chuc Wagun and is shaped like a covered wagon from the pioneer days."

"Where is it, Robert?" Roger asked.

"It's on 34th Street," he replied.

"We'll have to try that out, Cindy – take Cady and Julia sometime," Roger said.

"That's a great idea," Cynthia replied.

Once everyone was done eating, Deborah and Cynthia cleared the dinner plates and asked everyone what kind of pie they'd like for dessert: Dutch apple, pecan, or pumpkin, with or without ice cream or whipped cream. Both of the girls wanted apple pie with ice cream. Jacob and Robert wanted pecan pie without whipped or ice cream, and the rest wanted traditional pumpkin pie – some with and some without whipped cream.

"Besides trying out new restaurants, what have you and Janice been up to?" Roger asked Robert.

"You mean, besides what we already talked about?" he said to Roger with a wink. Janice slapped him on the shoulder.

"I think you married your mother, Son," Jacob said.

"Thanks Dad," Robert replied. He continued, "We also go to the Rubinstein sometimes. Dorothy's taking some art classes. She's quite good. Janice is in a book club and we both take dance classes," Robert said.

"Is that where you learned to cut a rug like Elvis?" Roger asked.

"Nope…. I learned that watching him on _Ed Sullivan_. I think he's been on that program three times now," Robert said.

"I think you're right," Roger said.

"He sure can make the girls swoon," Peter remarked.

"He's utterly lurid," Joanne replied and crossed her arms.

"What does 'lurid' mean, Daddy?" Cady asked.

"It's not important, Baby," Roger replied, skirting that vocabulary lesson.

"We're big fans of Elvis' music. There's really nothing quite like it. You can't even recognize the music al culture from 1955 in relation to today. It has been quite the sea change. He's got a winning formula, for sure," Cynthia continued, ignoring Joanne.

"We should play some of his music after dinner," Cady said.

"We can't, Baby. The game is going to be on in a few minutes," Roger replied. "But you can take the portable record player to your room and play some music with Dorothy."

"Yea! Elvis!" the girls shouted in unison.

"Okay, okay. Simmer down, girls," Roger said and smiled.

After everyone was done with dessert and the table had been cleared, the group retired to the living room except for Deborah and Cynthia who remained behind to wash the dishes.

Right before the game started at 2:15, Joanne said, "We'll be heading back to the hotel now. Your father promised that we'd stay in town tomorrow to do some shopping and sight-seeing in Houston before heading back to Dallas on Saturday."

"Okay, well….Will we see you at Christmas?" Roger asked.

"If you're planning on coming up, Son," Peter said. "Susan and Pete Jr. are bringing their families to our house."

"It depends on our work schedules, of course, but we'll definitely try," Roger replied. He called into the kitchen, "Cindy… Mom and Dad are leaving!"

Cynthia came out of the kitchen with Deborah and walked over and hugged Peter and Joanne while Deborah dried her hands. "Thanks for visiting."

"Thanks for having us, Dear," Joanne said. Then Peter and Joanne left, and the game between Texas and Texas A&M began. The men watched the game while Cynthia and Deborah relaxed at the kitchen table after cleaning dishes and putting away leftovers. Janice joined the girls in Cady's bedroom playing Elvis records and talking. The game was close and very low-scoring the entire game. The men whooped and hollered at the television. Eventually, the Longhorns beat the Aggies 9 to 7.

"That'll be fifty bucks, Bob," Roger said with a smile, holding out his hand.

Robert pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and took out some cash and counted it and slapped it into Roger's open hand. "There you go, brother-in-law. Care to bet again on Saturday's game?" he asked.

"I'll have to think about it. I just recently came into some money and I'm not ready to give it up yet," Roger replied with a smirk.

"Let me know. I'd like a chance to win my money back," Robert replied.

"I will," Roger said and stuffed the cash into his pocket.

Cady, Janice, and Dorothy came out from Cady's bedroom. "Daddy, can Dorothy spend the night?" she asked.

"I think it's fine, but what do you think, Cindy?" Roger asked.

"It's fine with me, but I work the late shift tomorrow night so I'll need to sleep all day, like usual," Cynthia said.

"We'll be quiet, Momma," Cady replied.

"We'll pick her up around noon," Robert said.

"That'll be fine, Bob," Roger said.

Robert and Janice went home first and then Deborah and Jacob, leaving Cynthia and Roger and the girls to themselves for the evening. At 7:30, they all watched _Circus Boy_ starring Micky Dolenz, at the girls' request, followed by _Zorro_. After which, the girls were sent to bed. Cynthia read to them for a while until they both looked sleepy.

"So what are you two thankful for?" Cynthia asked.

"My mommy and daddy," Dorothy quickly replied.

"What about you, Baby?" Cynthia asked.

"I'm thankful for you and Daddy too, but I'm thankful for being happy too. Some people aren't that happy," Cady observed.

"I know what you mean, Baby. I know what you mean," Cynthia replied and kissed her on the forehead. She then leaned in and hugged Dorothy.

"Goodnight, girls," she said as she turned off the light and started to leave the room.

"Goodnight, Momma," Cady said.

"Goodnight, Aunt Cindy," Dorothy repeated. Cynthia looked back at the girls and smiled, turned around, and closed the door and left to spend some quiet time with Roger in the living room.


	3. Chapter 3

The Saturday morning after Thanksgiving, Roger sat finishing his coffee across the table from Cady who was finishing her breakfast.

"Daddy, when can Dorothy come over again?" she asked.

"Anytime you want and as long as she allowed to and it's not a school night," Roger replied.

"Okay. I wish I had a brother or sister sometimes," Cady said.

"I wanted you to, but it didn't work out," Roger replied. "Dorothy and you are very close, though."

"I guess she's _like_ a sister," Cady replied.

"True. Lots of people are close like siblings to their cousins. It's not that rare at all," Roger replied. "You're fortunate that Dorothy lives in the same town as you."

"I guess," she replied.

"We'll see her and your aunt and uncle on the first night of Hanukkah, for sure," Roger said.

"When's that?" she asked.

"In a little over two weeks," Roger replied. He rubbed his temple and squinted a little.

"Do you have a headache, Daddy?" Cady asked.

"Yes," he said as he drank his coffee. "I thought the coffee would help."

"Why's that?" she asked.

"The caffeine that's in coffee can help headaches," Roger replied.

"Oh," Cady replied as she wiped her face with her napkin.

"Well, Baby….Do you want to help me clean up the breakfast dishes?" Roger asked.

"Sure," she replied, and Roger got up and went over to the sink.

"Remember that your momma's sleeping and we need to be careful about clinking dishes," Roger said.

"I'll be careful," Cady replied.

Roger filled a glass of water and got a bottle of aspirin out of a kitchen cabinet, took two, and drank the whole glass of water. Cady cleared the table and brought the dishes to the sink while Robert filled one side with soapy water. She pulled up her chair to the other side of the sink, grabbed a towel, and climbed up and kneeled on the chair to dry the dishes.

"So, what else would you like to do today, besides going to King's with me?" Roger asked.

"I don't know," Cady replied.

"Well, we'll have to go to lunch, of course," Roger replied. "Do you want to try that new hamburger place your uncle was talking about?"

"That sounds good, Daddy," Cady replied, distracted.

"Is something bothering you, Baby?" he asked.

"Gramma and Grampa," she replied.

"What about them?" he asked.

"They're mean to each other sometimes," she said.

"Oh. Well. They haven't been happy together, probably for a very long time," Roger replied.

"But they're married," she said as she dried a plate.

"That doesn't always guarantee happiness, Cady," Roger replied.

"Are you and Momma happy together?" she asked in a worried tone.

"Yes, Baby. Very happy. We love each other very much," he replied.

"I'm glad," she said with an audible sigh of relief. "Why aren't Gramma and Grampa happy?"

"It's complicated. Love is very complicated. People can think they love someone and it's merely infatuation, or they can think that they should get married because that's what they are supposed to do," he replied.

"What's 'infatuation?'" she asked.

"It's love that's not very deep and for really foolish, superficial reasons," Roger replied.

"Is that the kind of love Gramma and Grampa have?" she asked.

"No. Back when they got married…and people still do this, mind you…but they did it a lot more a long time ago – the primary reason that people got married was for financial security and to have families, and support those families. Love really wasn't the primary reason people got married," he explained.

"So, they _don't_ love each other?" she asked.

"I think they did at one time, and they just fell out of love," Roger replied.

"Why did you and Momma get married?" she asked.

"We loved each other very much," he replied.

"Will you and Momma fall out of love?" she asked.

Roger stopped washing a dish and looked right at her and said, "Not a chance, Baby."

"How do you know?" she asked with a worried expression.

"Because your Momma and I were best friends when we got married. You see, Baby…Someday, you'll want to get married and the most important thing to remember is that love is not enough, money gets spent, and security is an illusion. The man you want to marry should be your best friend – someone you know supports you as a person – your dreams and goals and is interested in the things you are. You should have many common interests with enough different ones to keep it interesting. He should want your opinion and you should want his. The key to a successful marriage is trust and friendship. You should know that each of you is there for each other no matter what – like best friends do. Understand?"

"Is that what you and Momma have?" she asked.

"Absolutely," he replied.

"Then that's what I want," she said. "I want to be happy."

"I want you to be happy, Baby," he said and leaned in closer to her. "And if a boy ever hurts you, you just let me know and I'll set him straight, okay?" he said with a wink.

She smiled and giggled. "Okay, Daddy."

"And one more thing, Baby. You and your possible future husband should also share the same basic morality," he advised.

"We should believe the same things about what's good and bad?" she replied.

He leaned on the sink and put his opposite hand on his hip and smiled at her. "That's right, Baby. You're so smart." He reached out for the towel, and she finished drying a cup and handed it to him. He dried his hands and handed it back to her. "Well, when you're done drying those, finish getting ready and we'll go to King's."

"Okay, Daddy," she said, and continued drying the few dishes left. Roger went into the living room to read the Saturday paper. Cady eventually came into the living room with her navy blue pea coat over her pink sweater and blue jeans. "Ready to go?" Roger asked.

"Yes," she said, while sliding on her gloves.

The two left the house and drove to King's Department Store. Roger parked the car a couple blocks down from the store because there was no parking nearby. "I should have known the Saturday after Thanksgiving that King's would be this busy. I'm tempted to just forget about it and go do something else instead."

"Momma said you need a new suit," Cady reminded him.

"Okay…. You're right. We might as well get it since we're already here," he replied. The two walked down the sidewalk to King's, passing what seemed to be a swarm of shoppers along the way.

"Look, Baby…. They've decorated the windows with Christmas displays," Roger said as they approached the front of the store.

"Neat!" she exclaimed. The two walked along and inspected each window display. They stopped at one that was so jam-packed, they couldn't possibly look at everything. It was filled with banners and signs and many different versions of Santa figures spread out around a selection of children's toys. It was generously decorated with evergreen garlands, bows of different sizes, and electric candles.

"We should come back here at night when Momma is off from work," Roger said.

"Ooooo! Yes! I'd like to see this with the lights on at night," Cady replied.

"Me too," he said with a smile as he put his hand on her back.

They looked at the other windows. One had a post office scene with a postman and a boy who had a Christmas package. Another had a cake and candy shop scene with a woman behind the counter and a little girl peering into the dessert case while the woman smiled. All of the windows' scenes featured actual King's products.

The two walked into the store and headed back to the men's suit department where a sales clerk stood. Roger approached him and said, "Hello. I'm looking to buy a new suit – something nice, for work and going out with my wife."

"Two-piece or three-piece?" the clerk asked.

"Two-piece is fine," Roger said.

"Those are over here," the man said, and walked him and Cady over to the suit rack. "Are you looking for a particular color?"

"Gray, I'd say," Roger replied. "Black's for funerals."

"Light gray or maybe something in this charcoal gray?" the man asked.

"I think the charcoal looks pretty classy," Roger replied. Cady stood nearby with her hands in her coat pockets.

"Yes, sir," the man replied. "I'll just take your measurements and see what size you need." The man took out a tape measure and measured Roger's various dimensions while Cady watched with curiosity. Then the man looked through the rack and found a jacket and a pair of pants that would fit Roger. "Our fitting room is over here, sir," the clerk said.

"Thanks. Cady, just stay here while I try these on," Roger said.

"Okay, Daddy," she said. Roger walked off with the clerk and Cady looked at the table of ties that seemed to go on forever. While she was looking at the ties, a little black girl, around the age of four crawled out from under the table and said, "Hi!"

Cady was surprised, but said 'hi' in return. "Who are you?"

The little girl just looked at her. She wore a fancy white dress with matching winter knit leotards. Seconds later, a black woman came up and said, "Joanna! I've been looking all over for you, child." She took her hand and said to Cady, "And where's your Momma or Daddy, little girl?"

"He's in there," Cady said and pointed to the fitting room.

"Are you going to help him pick out a tie?" she asked.

"I don't know," Cady replied warily, having been taught to be cautious of strangers.

"Well, we have a lot of good ones here. You can't go wrong with a tie from King's," the woman replied. She turned to her daughter and said, "C'mon Joanna, we've got to go meet your daddy." She took her daughter's hand and said to Cady, "You have a good day, now."

"I will. Thanks," Cady replied. "You too."

The woman walked away as quickly as she had appeared. Roger came out in the suit shortly after the encounter and said, "Well, Baby. What do you think?"

"It looks nice, Daddy," Cady replied with a smile.

"Will you be needing a shirt, tie, or cufflinks?" the clerk asked Roger.

"I suppose so. We'll get the whole shebang. I think your momma would like that, don't you?" Roger asked.

Cady shook her head and smiled.

"Well, why don't you pick out some ties you like for me and I'll go pick out a shirt. Okay?"

"Okay," she replied. She picked out five ties she liked while Roger was away picking out a shirt.

Roger tried on the shirt with the suit and came back to Cady at the tie display. She held the ties in her hands. He said, "Those look nice, Baby."

"What do you think of the overall fit of the suit, sir?" the clerk asked.

"Fits like a glove," Roger said with that big Parsons smile and spun around for Cady like a fashion model.

She laughed at his antics.

"So, no alterations, then?" the clerk asked.

"I don't think so," he said as he was holding the ties Cady picked out up to his suit. He picked one out and gave it to the clerk and rested the remaining four back on the tie display. "I'll be right back," he said to Cady and went back to the fitting room with the clerk.

A few moments later, he came back dressed in the clothes he wore to the store and the clerk was behind him holding the suit, shirt, and tie. "I'll just package these up for you, sir," the clerk said, and he walked over to the counter and began wrapping up Roger's purchase.

"That was a good choice for a tie," Roger said.

"Thanks," Cady replied.

"I guess we'll go to lunch after we're done here. Then, I think we should go home and pick up around the house a little for Momma before she wakes up. Do you want to help me make dinner before she goes to work?" Roger asked.

"Sure," Cady replied.

"Then the Rice/Baylor game is tonight and we can watch it together before bedtime," Roger said.

"Okay, Daddy," Cady replied.

Roger approached the sales counter with Cady.

"That will be sixty-eight dollars, sir," the clerk said.

Roger pulled out his wallet from his hip pocket and counted out some cash and gave it to the man, who then handed him a suit bag and a box. Roger handed Cady the box. "Here, Baby. Would you mind carrying this to the car for me?"

"No, Daddy," Cady replied.

"Thanks for your help today," Roger said the clerk. Then he and Cady walked through a veritable sea of shoppers back to the car and went to lunch at The Chuc Wagun.

About a half an hour later, they were sitting outside the restaurant at a picnic table under a tent, and they had gotten their drinks and were waiting on their meals.

"Your uncle didn't say you had to sit outside at this place, did he?" Roger said.

Cady took a sip of her drink through a straw and said, "Nope," and smiled.

"Well, fortunately, it's not that cold or windy today," Roger said.

"Daddy, can black people shop at King's?" Cady asked.

"Most certainly…. Jerome King is black," Roger replied.

"Oh," Cady replied. "I saw little girl and her momma and she talked to me. I was just wondering because of what you said the other day."

"About segregation?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Did you catch their names?" Roger asked.

"The woman called her little girl Joanna," she said. "She didn't say her name."

"That's probably Mrs. King and their daughter, then. I think Bill said their daughter's name was Joanna. That's easy to remember for obvious reasons," he said as he rubbed Cady's head from across the table. She smiled.

"There were a lot of white people there buying things from a black family," she observed.

"Yes. People are peculiar, Baby, and not at all consistent," Roger replied.

"They don't mind buying from them but won't let them go to school with me?" she inquired.

"You have to remember that not all people are bigoted. Some genuinely don't care that King's is owned by a black family. It doesn't factor into their thinking. And some are bigoted but still need to buy the things that King's sells. Also, King's is fairly upscale because Jerome King has worked long and hard for this achievement his whole life, and the people with the most backward attitudes these days can't afford his merchandise anyway," Roger explained.

"Poor people are bigoted?" she asked.

"Not necessarily, but they often can't afford the schooling that would educate them otherwise, and some feel like they have to compete economically with poor blacks and, well, have to have some group lesser than them in their minds to feel better about themselves," he replied.

"That's sad," she replied.

"Yes it is," he said.

"How do people become bigoted?" she asked.

"Wow. That's a big question," Roger replied. He thought for a bit and continued, "Generally, it's fear or hate or a combination of the two – since fear and hate often come together."

She looked and him with a quizzical expression.

He explained further, "People fear who or what they don't know or have experience with. If there is a perceived or actual wound or slight from someone they already fear, then they hate them for it. And hate grows more hate over time, until people hate out of habit and don't even remember how they got to hating in the first place."

"I don't want to hate anyone, then," she replied, straightening up in her seat in a defiant pose.

"That's an excellent policy, Baby. Choose to be happy and not miserable with hate or the need to be right all the time," Roger advised.

"Happy sounds a lot better anyway," she replied.

"It is."

The food arrived and they ate, and afterward, headed back home. When they arrived, Roger put Cady to work cleaning and organizing her bedroom while he worked on the living room and then the bathroom. Finally, he worked his way to the kitchen and cleaned it. After all the cleaning, Cady colored on the coffee table, and Roger read the rest of the Saturday paper until it was almost time for dinner. When they heard Cynthia get up to take a shower to get ready for work, Roger got up and started reheating some Thanksgiving leftovers so they could all eat together before she went to the hospital.

Cynthia came out when she was dressed. She wore dark brown and white plaid pants with tapered legs and a belt and a camel colored turtle neck and the watch that Roger got her for their last anniversary. She walked up to Cady where she was coloring and held her cheeks and kissed her on the top of her head.

"Did you have a good time today?" Cynthia asked.

"Yes. I helped Daddy shop for a suit and then we went to the Chuc Wagun," she replied.

"Good. It's about time for that suit," she replied and went into the kitchen.

When she approached Roger, who was stirring gravy on the stovetop, she put her arms around his waist and rested her head on the back of his shoulder.

"Have a good sleep?" he asked.

"Yes, but I'm not looking forward to this shift tonight. You know the mayhem these local football games bring into the hospital between the drinkers and the brawlers," Cynthia said.

"Can't say I envy you…. I'm just glad I get to watch the game from the comfort of home," he said and turned around and put his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately on the lips. She responded in kind.

When the kiss was over and he was smiling at her in a peculiar way – like he'd never looked at her before, she asked, "What was that all about?"

"Nothing," he said as he smoothed back a lock of her hair away from her forehead. "I'm just so happy I married my best friend."

She felt his forehead and said, "You don't seem to have a fever," and smiled.

"I've got a fever for you, Sweetheart," Roger replied as he pulled her in closer.

"No, really…what's this all about?" she asked.

"Nothing. I was just thinking of a conversation that Cady and I had earlier today," he replied. He put his hands on Cynthia's backside and gently squeezed and said, "I sometimes marvel at the fact that I get to make love to someone that is also my best friend. I'm the luckiest man in the world."

She smiled and squeezed his backside, "That must have been a helluva conversation. You'll have to tell me about it later." She reached around him and turned off the gravy that had almost been boiling over. "Gravy's done," she said with a smile.

He kissed her again and said, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Roger. You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she replied.

"Well, why don't you go sit down in the living room since the game is about to start and I'll bring the TV trays and serve up dinner to the 'best thing that ever happened to me' too," he said.

"Okay," she said and went back into the living room. Roger got the TV trays and served up the leftover food, and they all sat next to each other on the couch with the Rice/Baylor game on the television. After everyone was done eating, Cady returned to coloring and Roger put the dirty dishes in the sink to wash later. Cynthia put on her lab coat and her winter coat over that and grabbed her medical bag.

"C'mon over here, and give me a hug, Baby," she said. And Cady got up and hugged her. "You take care of your Daddy tonight."

"Okay, Momma. I'll see you in the morning," Cady replied.

Cynthia kissed Cady on the top of the head and Roger came over to Cynthia and hugged her. "I'll have a surprise for you when you get home in the morning," Roger said with a wink.

"Oh, dear….Well, I look forward to seeing you then, Mr. Parsons," she said coyly and winked back. "You two enjoy the game."

"Okay, Momma," Cady said while coloring. Cynthia left to go to work and Roger sat down in his chair and watched the game on television. After a while, Cady went back to her room and brought a book and snuggled next to Roger in his chair and read while he watched the game.

"That Raymond Chilton is an amazing player," Roger remarked.

"Uh-hmm," Cady said while reading her book, clearly not as interested in the sport. Roger smiled.

About a half hour later, he said, "Things are not looking good for Baylor. It's good that your momma's not a fan or she'd be pretty disappointed in her alma mater."

"What's 'alma mater?'" Cady asked.

"It's a Latin phrase used to indicate the school where one got their education," Roger replied.

"Julia is learning Latin at school," Cady remarked.

"Ah, yes. For the Latin mass," Roger replied.

"That's what she said," Cady replied and returned to reading.

By the time the game was over, Rice beat Baylor twenty to zero. Cady was still reading her book when Roger said, "It's an hour past your bed time. I guess we better do something about that."

Cady put her bookmark in her book and stood up as Roger did. "Okay," she said.

"Why don't you go get ready for bed and I'll rinse up the dishes and you can read to me tonight, instead. This headache of mine has returned."

"Okay, Daddy," she said and went off to her room to get into her pajamas.

Roger went into the kitchen and washed the small number of dishes and took a couple of aspirin and walked back to Cady's room and knocked on the door. "Ready, Baby?" he asked.

"Yes," she said through the door. He entered her room and she was under her blankets and was wearing her pink pajama set with the short sleeve, collared, button down shirt with pleats on the front and poufy sleeves, and matching tapered pants.

Roger sat down in the chair next to her bed while she had her book sitting on her stomach. "Did you have a good day today?"

"Yes," Cady replied. "The Chuc Wagun was good. We should go with Julia sometime."

"We will. That was pretty funny that it was shaped like a covered wagon, wasn't it?" Roger said with a smile.

She giggled and said, "Yes."

"Alright, let's hear some from this book you're reading," Roger said.

"Can I get some water, Daddy? I'm thirsty," she asked.

"Certainly," he said. "I think I'll get a glass for me too." He stood up and walked out of her bedroom and back to the kitchen. He filled two glasses of water and turned to head back to her room. Suddenly, he waivered in his gait, his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed onto the kitchen floor, shattering both glasses as he fell.


	4. Chapter 4

Cady's heart jumped as she heard the shattering glass, and she shot up in bed. "Daddy?" she called with worried trepidation.

Her call was met by pregnant silence.

She cautiously got out of bed and walked out of her room and stood tentatively in the hallway with her hand against the wall looking toward the living room and the light coming from the kitchen. She called again in a quavering voice, "Daddy?"

She waited briefly for him to answer and when he didn't respond, she continued to the entryway of the kitchen where she was suddenly gripped with horror at what she saw. So gripped was she, that she couldn't move at first, and started to tremble slightly, and her heart pounded until she could hear it in her head. Roger was lying face down on the floor with his mouth slightly open and his eyes were open but vacant. She ran to him through the broken glass on the floor in sheer panic. She was so numbed by terror that she did not feel the shards cut her feet. She fell to the ground and put her hands on his shoulders and tried to rock him awake. She would alternate rocking motions with screams of "Daddy!" as loud as she could. Roger did not respond. She stood up, shaking and out of breath, and her eyes darted around the room like a desperate animal trying to find a way out of a trap. The blood from her feet mingled with the water from the broken glasses on the floor.

_What could she do? The Martins were gone. She couldn't try to find anyone else and leave her Daddy alone. _She put her hand to her mouth and frantically tried to figure out what to do. After a few moments, her head cleared enough to remember that the phone had a sticker with "Ambulance Service" on it. She pulled up a chair and stood on it and took the receiver off the rotary phone and dialed the number on the sticker. She had to dial it twice because her finger slipped out of the dial the first time. The phone rang several times. She was shaking and repeatedly looking back at Roger on the floor. He hadn't moved at all since the moment she discovered him.

Finally, a man on the other end said, "Ambulance Service."

Rapidly and breathlessly Cady said, "My daddy is sick! He needs to go to the hospital!"

"Now calm down, little one," the man said. "What's your address?"

She tugged at her hair with tears running down her face, searching her memory for her address, which normally, she knew like the back of her hand. "Um…I…It's…It's 29 Richmond Ave," she said.

"Okay, Sweetie. My partner and I will be there in a few minutes. You just sit tight," the man said in a thick Texas accent. He hung up.

She hung up the phone and jumped down from the chair, still numbed to the pain in her feet, and hurried over to Roger on the floor. She draped her arms and upper body over his back while he lay motionless. She pressed her cheek against his back and sobbed and tried to soothe an unresponsive Roger. "Daddy, the ambulance is coming. I'm here….They're going to take you to the hospital and you'll be all better," she urged. Roger didn't move.

Time seemed to lag to a crawl to Cady. It felt like forever for the ambulance to get there. She alternated attempts at waking him with sitting back and rocking to soothe herself.

Eventually, there was an official sounding knock on the Parsons' front door. She got up from the floor with Roger and said, "They're here, Daddy. It's going to be okay," she reassured. She hurried through the living room to the front door and opened it.

Two men in hats with the name of the ambulance service, thick black jackets, white shirts, and black pants stood outside. They had a stretcher and one looked down at Cady and said, "Where's your Daddy?" She was clearly in shock and silently pointed to the kitchen. The men went into the kitchen and she walked close behind. She sat down a few feet away from the men and Roger with her back against the kitchen cabinets. She had her knees up with her chin rested on them and her arms around her legs. Her eyes were dazed and frantic at the same time. The voices of the men were muffled by the pounding of her heart and her own breathing.

The men worked together to turn Roger over and one of the men put his ear against Roger's chest. He looked up at the other man after listening for a bit and shook his head slightly. The other man turned to Cady, and seeing her feet, and the blood all over the kitchen floor and trailed into the living room, he asked, "Are you hurt, Sweetie?" He got up and walked toward her and kneeled next to her to look at her.

She looked at her feet and saw the blood on and around them. "I…I…don't know," she replied.

Well, let me take you in the living room and I'll have a look at those feet. I think you stepped in this glass, Sweetie," he replied in a friendly tone. He picked her up, and she put her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, and he carried her into the living room and put her on the couch next to an end table. He turned on the light and looked at her feet. "I'm going to run out to the ambulance and get our first aid kit, okay?"

"Is my daddy going to be alright?" she asked.

The man hesitated and said, "My partner is working on your daddy. I'm going to take care of you. I'll be right back. You stay here, okay?"

She nodded, still looking dazed.

It didn't take long and the man was back with his first aid kit. He took out some gauze and loosely wrapped both of her feet. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Okay. You stay right here and I'm going to go help my partner with your daddy. Then I'll be back for you, okay?"

She nodded.

He went back into the kitchen and helped his partner put Roger on the stretcher. They put a blanket over him up to his chin and strapped him on the stretcher. One man guided the stretcher in the front while the other pushed from the back, and as they moved through the living room, the man that took care of Cady said, "We're going to put him in the back of the ambulance and when we're done, I'm going to come back for you and you can ride up front with us, Sweetie."

Cady just stared at the man without saying a word and watched them wheel her father out to the ambulance, voice-choked and tears running down her face. The man who took care of her came back quickly and picked her up off the couch and carried her through the front door, careful to turn the key to the lock on his way out.

When he got to the ambulance, the man helping Cady put her in the front seat. "Here ya go, Sweetie. You can sit between us." Cady was visibly shivering when he put her down. "Are you cold?" She looked at him as dazed as she had been, with a tear-streaked face. "Just a sec," he said. He went around to the back of the ambulance as the other man got in to drive. He came back with a blanket and put it behind her back and wrapped it around her. "How's that?" he asked, and he and the other man looked at her waiting for an answer. She just stared ahead, shook, and didn't say anything.

"She's in shock," the driver observed.

The other man nodded to the driver and sat down next to her and put his arm around her to steady her and keep her warm. "It's going to be okay. Can you tell me your name?" he asked.

She didn't respond but continued to tremble and stare with tears streaming down her face. The man's voice seemed distant to her, muffled and indistinct.

"It's okay. You can tell me on the way or tell the doctor at the hospital," he replied.

The driver asked as he backed out of the Parsons' driveway, "Are we going to Hermann?"

"Yes. That's the closest," the other man replied.

Cady said in a near whisper, "That's where my momma works."

"What's her name?" he asked.

"Cynthia Parsons," she replied quietly.

"Can you tell me your name, now?" he asked.

"Cady," she replied.

"That's a pretty name," he said. The driver pulled out and headed to the hospital. After they were on the road for about a minute, the man asked, "Can you tell me what happened, Cady?"

Still trembling and tears streaming, she shook her head and bit her lip. She could barely concentrate on the man's words, her mind was so clouded with anguish and fear; and, she really had no idea what had happened.

He put his arm around her and held her close to keep her warm. "How old are you?"

She said in a quiet voice, staring at the road ahead, "Seven."

"Oh, my… Seven. First grade?" he asked.

She nodded slowly.

"I've got a boy your age," the man noted, trying to keep her alert but calm.

Cady's mind reeled and there was a sense of unreality around her. It felt like a horrible dream. Her hands were numb, her heart pounded, and she felt light-headed and her face flushed. She felt like she wasn't in her own body…that she had left it back at her house. The man kept talking to her but it sounded like muffled nonsense. Traffic and street lights made her flinch and the smell of the driver's cologne burned her nostrils.

It felt like one hundred years to Cady, but it wasn't that long before the ambulance reached Hermann Hospital. The man who was talking to Cady got out of the ambulance, leaned back into the ambulance and wrapped the blanket tighter around her and lifted her out of the vehicle. He carried her draped in both arms with her head resting on his shoulder. She kept staring straight ahead with glassy eyes. The driver got out and said, "I'll wait for you here," as his partner carried Cady into the hospital. The man looked over his shoulder and nodded back at the driver on his way inside with Cady.

The man brought Cady up to the nurse's station where Sally Tompkins was standing filling out paperwork. The man said to Sally, "I have a little girl here, who needs some medical attention."

Sally looked up and immediately recognized Cady. "Cady!" she exclaimed as she dropped her pen and put her hand out to touch her head. Cady flinched and pulled away. "What's the matter, Honey?" she asked in a compassionate voice.

"She called the ambulance service to get help for her daddy," the man replied.

"Roger?! What's happened to him?" she replied.

The man gave her a look, without saying anything that would disturb Cady. The look told Sally that Roger was already gone. She slid her hand through her hair and composed herself and looked at her room charts. Nancy Kearney walked up to the nurses' station. "What's going on? What's Cady doing here?" she asked.

Sally didn't answer her question but said, "Nancy, would you show this man to treatment room seven and keep Cady company while she waits for…" She looked at her clipboard. "Dr. Peterson."

"Sure, but…" Nancy said.

"Please, just do it. This man has work he has to get back to," Sally replied.

Nancy looked concerned and said, "Okay. Follow me," and she guided the man to the treatment room. A couple of minutes later, he returned to the nurses' station.

"What happened?" she asked.

"The girl called our service. When we got there, she let us in. We checked on her daddy, and he was dead on the kitchen floor when we got there. Her feet are all cut up from walking on broken glass. I'm sure that's just the beginning of her troubles. Poor little girl. I suppose you know her because you work with her mother," he said.

"How?…"

"She told me in the ambulance her mother works here. Is she a nurse?" he asked.

"Doctor," Sally replied.

"Well, she'll be in good hands, then. What should I do with her daddy? Take him to the mortuary?" the man asked.

"Bring him inside. An autopsy might be in order," Sally replied.

"Okay," the man replied. He walked out of the hospital to retrieve Roger's body.

"If I see one more Rice or Baylor letterman's jacket tonight, I just might scream. When are people going to realize that fanaticism, football, and alcohol don't mix?" said a voice that startled Sally from behind.

Sally recognized the voice immediately. It was Cynthia leaning on the counter writing some instructions in a patient's file.

"Hi, Sally. How's your evening?" Cynthia said, not looking up from her clipboard.

Sally stuttered, "Um….I….fine…I guess. Just a minute," she said and picked up the phone, her hands shaking. Cynthia made a perplexed look at Sally's seemingly odd behavior.

Sally paged, "Dr. Peterson, please come to treatment room seven. Dr. Peterson, please come to treatment room seven. Dr. Samuels, please come to the hospital lobby nurses' station. Dr. Samuels, please come to the hospital lobby nurses' station." Sally hung up the phone and straightened her hair, cleared her throat, and shuffled some papers.

"Are you alright?" Cynthia asked, completely oblivious to the situation.

"Cynthia…" Sally started, with some considerable nervousness in her voice.

Dr. Samuels appeared. "What is it, Sally?" Both he and Cynthia waited for her to answer.

The men from the ambulance pushed the gurney up to the nurses' station. "Do you want us to just take the body down to the morgue?" one of the men asked.

Sally, startled again, held out her hand to the men and said, "Just a minute," and she paused and her eyes moved like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

Cynthia and Dr. Samuels stood next to each other, waiting expectantly.

Sally turned to Cynthia and said, "Cynthia…," and paused again.

"Yes. What is it?" Cynthia asked with a slightly worried expression mixed with a nervous smile.

"Something terrible has happened," Sally started. She looked at the men and the covered body on the gurney.

Cynthia's countenance fell and her voice got shaky. "Sally? What is it? You're scaring me."

Dr. Samuels looked over at the body and deduced that something quite bad had happened and he put out his hand to touch Cynthia's arm.

"What is it, Sally?!" Cynthia asked in a desperate, almost pleading tone.

"Cynthia, it's Roger…." Sally continued.

Dr. Samuels tried to squeeze Cynthia's arm, and she pulled it away from him and pushed past him to the gurney with a terrified look contorting her face. The men stood back from the gurney and she pulled back the blanket covering the body and backed up immediately, gasped and put both hands across her mouth. Dr. Samuels darted over to put his arms around her. Cynthia's eyes streamed with tears and she fell back against Dr. Samuels who held her tight. Her knees buckled, and Dr. Samuels couldn't hold her up so he lowered her to the ground and stayed down there with her. Sally came out from around the nurses' station and she directed the men to the morgue and squatted down to be near a sobbing, inconsolable Cynthia. Hospital staff went about their business, but gawked at the scene.

"What happened?!" she pleaded. "I don't understand….I just don't understand." The men pushed the gurney down a hallway and out of sight.

"I don't either, Cynthia," she said. "We'll figure it out later," she replied. "Let David and I help you into a room to calm down."

"C'mon, Cynthia," Dr. Samuels said, attempting to lift her up from the floor.

Sally reached out to Cynthia and took her hands as Dr. Samuels helped her up with his hands on her waist. Once she was standing, Sally put one arm around Cynthia's waist to support her and walked her to treatment room one with Dr. Samuels following closely behind.

Meanwhile, in treatment room seven, Dr. Peterson was just arriving. Cady was lying on the table in her pink pajamas with a blanket over her and she was staring at the ceiling and shivering. Nurse Kearney was holding her hand.

"Well, what have we here?" Dr. Peterson asked. Nancy was initially in his line of sight and when he came around to the table, he realized it was Cady.

"Cady Parsons?" he said with a tone of surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"She hasn't said a word," Nancy replied.

"What's the matter, Cady?" he said, shining his pen light in her eyes.

"She's in shock and her feet are cut," Nancy said as she pulled back the blanket to show her bloody feet wrapped in gauze.

"You can cover those back up again," Dr. Peterson said to Nancy. "Start her on a saline drip," he said as he listened to her heart. He took off his stethoscope and stuffed it in his lab coat pocket and pulled up a stool and sat down next to Cady. He picked up her hand and squeezed. "Now, Cady, your heart is going a mile a minute. I need you to listen to me and calm down. Everything's going to be alright, Sweetie."

Cady felt numb all over and couldn't concentrate on Dr. Peterson's words.

Nancy started the I.V. in Cady's arm and started fluids. Cady didn't flinch at the insertion of the I.V. Dr. Peterson said, "Okay, Sweetie…I'm going to fix up your feet." He switched positions with Nancy who took Cady's hand, and he moved the stool to the end of the table and lifted the blanket and removed the gauze.

"How did this happen, Cady?" he asked as he pulled a wrapped tray of instruments out of a nearby drawer.

She didn't answer, her eyes tearing up again. Nancy stroked her hair and tried to soothe her.

Sally opened the door to the treatment room, right before Dr. Peterson started to work on Cady's feet. "Dr. Peterson, could you step out in the hall with me?" Sally asked.

He put a tweezer back on the instrument tray, stood up, and put his hand on Cady's left knee. "I'll be right back. Nancy will keep you company again, Sweetie," he said in calming voice.

Dr. Peterson walked out of the room and Nancy continued stroking Cady's hair and holding her hand. Moments later, Dr. Peterson returned with a more austere expression. He sat back down to resume working on Cady's feet. He tweezed small pieces of glass out of her feet. After he had removed all of the shards, he said, "Looks like you're only going to need a few stitches and you'll be fine, Sweetie."

She just looked at him, feeling slightly calmer after Nancy's attention to her. She still couldn't feel any physical pain and felt very detached.

Dr. Peterson took out a syringe and injected a few areas of her feet with lidocaine, waited a bit, and then began stitching up the bigger cuts in her feet.

"How's my daddy?" Cady asked in a shaky voice, tears streaming down her face again.

"We'll talk about him in a bit, Sweetie. Right now, I'm taking care of you," he replied.

Cady closed her eyes and began sobbing.

"Does it hurt?" Dr. Peterson asked.

She shook her head and continued sobbing. Nancy stroked her hair and held her hand.

"I'll be done soon," he reassured. After a little while working, he put some antibiotic ointment on her wounds and wrapped her feet in fresh gauze.

While he was wrapping her feet, Cady said, "My daddy's dead, isn't he?"

He finished wrapping up her feet and covered her with the blanket again. His delayed answer to Cady was excruciating. He stood up and pushed the stool to the opposite side of the table from Nancy and sat down with his hands on his knees. He took a deep breath and said, "Yes, Sweetie. He is." Nancy gasped.

She started sobbing uncontrollably and rolled over toward Nancy and buried her face in her chest and threw her arms around her neck. Dr. Peterson rubbed her back as she cried.

In treatment room one, Cynthia and Dr. Samuels sat in two chairs very close to each other, with his arm around her shoulders. She was leaning forward and crying. Dr. Samuels said, "Cynthia, who do you want us to call? I don't think you should drive home in this condition, and be alone at home."

"Alone?... Oh my God… Cady!" she realized. "Where's Cady?"

"Don't worry. Sally said Lowell was taking care of her with Nancy," he replied.

"I need to go to her, then," she said. She rallied herself, "I need to go to her and then figure out what happened to Roger. There will have to be an autopsy." She stood up, rigid and vigilant.

"You need to sit here and get over the shock you are obviously in," Dr. Samuels cautioned. He held her arm and squeezed, and she sat back down. "Here, take this," he said as he handed her a pill and a small cup of water.

"What's this?" she asked – her pained face streaked with trails of mascara.

"It's a mild tranquilizer," he replied.

"I don't need this," she argued, holding the pill and water in her hands. "I have to finish my shift."

"There's no way you are going to finish your shift, Cynthia. Just take it," he replied.

She paused, took it, and sat back with her head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. "I want to know what happened, David."

"I know you do. Right now, you need to take care of you," he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders again. "Who should I call?"

"My mother….Deborah Glass. She's been a patient here. Her number will be in her file," Cynthia replied, tears welling up in her eyes again.

"You don't remember her number?" he asked.

She looked up as if to pull the information from thin air and shook her head and said, "I'm sorry, David. I can barely remember my name right now."

Dr. Samuels stood up and put his hand on her shoulder. "It's Okay. Wait here. I'll go call her."

"What happened to Cady?" she asked.

"She has some cuts on her feet. Lowell is fixing her up right now. Don't worry," Dr. Samuels replied. "Now, I mean it. Stay right here. That tranquilizer will kick in and you'll need someone to keep an eye on you," he cautioned.

She nodded and as he left, she bent over, wrapped her arms around herself and began sobbing again.

Cady rolled back over and faced the ceiling after crying on Nancy for a while. Nancy pulled her blanket higher to keep her warm. She stroked her hair again.

"Are you feeling calmer, Sweetie?" Dr. Peterson asked.

Cady nodded, tears still streaming down her face.

"Okay. I'm going to step out for a bit and I'll be right back," he said as he stood up.

Cady turned to him and said, "You can do magic. Can you bring my daddy back?" she pleaded.

He put his hand on her arm. "Oh, Sweetie…Those are just tricks. That's not how it works," he said. "I wish I could bring him back."

She was hurt deeply that Dr. Peterson couldn't bring her daddy back.

"I'm really sorry about your daddy, Sweetie. He was a good man," he replied. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She rolled over to Nancy again and hugged her tightly. Nancy also had tears in her eyes as she returned Cady's hug.

Dr. Peterson left and went to the lobby nurses' station where Dr. Samuels was with Sally Tompkins. Dr. Samuels rubbed the back of his neck anxiously as Sally was on the phone to file keeping. "Can you look up Deborah Glass's number and call me back with it?"…. "Yes." …. "Okay." …. "Please hurry." She hung up the phone.

"Poor Cady. She's beside herself," Dr. Peterson said to the other two.

"How are her feet?" Dr. Samuels asked.

"Far better than her heart…. What a loss," Dr. Peterson observed. "How's Cynthia?"

"She's vacillating between grieving and her usual dutiful self," Dr. Samuels said. "She's in shock."

"I just can't imagine what might have happened to Roger," Sally remarked. "What was he? 40? 41?"

"I don't know the circumstances of the night at the Parsons' house yet, but if it was sudden, it could have been a heart attack, pulmonary embolism, brain aneurysm, or hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Those are the usual suspects," Dr. Samuels said.

The phone rang and Sally picked it up. "Yes," she said as she wrote down a number. "Thank you," she said, and hung up. "Do you want me to call, or do you want to call?" she asked, holding out the receiver to Dr. Samuels.

"I'll do it," he replied and took the receiver. She dialed the phone for him and he waited for someone to pick up on the other end. Dr. Peterson leaned on the counter and Sally stood by expectantly.

"Yes," Dr. Samuels said. "Is this Mrs. Glass?"

"Yes it is," she said with a yawn, lying in bed holding the receiver from the phone on her nightstand.

"It's Dr. David Samuels from Hermann Hospital."

Deborah sat up and shoved Jacob on the arm. He mumbled and opened his eyes and she shoved him again and he sat up too. "What is it? Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Glass," he replied.

Deborah gasped. "Is it my Cynthia?"

"No, Mrs. Glass," he replied.

Deborah interjected again, "Please not my little Cady?" Jacob was visibly worried at their end of the phone conversation and stared at Deborah with grave concern.

"Mrs. Glass, it's your son-in-law," Dr. Samuels said.

"Roger?" she replied. Jacob leaned in closer. "What's happened?"

"I'm afraid he has died, Mrs. Glass," Dr. Samuels replied.

"What?!" she exclaimed and put her free hand over her mouth. "How?!"

"We don't know yet," he replied. "Cynthia is going to need someone to take her home tonight and take care of her. Will you or Mr. Glass be able to do so?"

"Of course….We'll be right there!" Deborah replied. "Thank you for notifying us."

"I'll see you soon," Dr. Samuels replied.

"We'll be there in about thirty minutes," she replied.

"Okay. Just come to the lobby nurses' station and ask for me. Sally will page me," he replied.

"Okay. Goodbye," she said.

"Goodbye," he said. And they both hung up their phones.

_**To be continued….**_


End file.
